How Many Ways Can A Robin Die? Chapter 6
by AJCrane
Summary: "How Many Ways Can a Robin Die?" Batman #246-Dec. 1972 is one of my favorite Batman stories. I got to thinking and I decided what if there was just ONE more chapter to be told, and this is what came forth.
1. Chapter 1

How Many Ways Can A Robin Die?

Chapter 6: How to Poison a Robin (Part 1)

Author's Note: "How Many Ways Can a Robin Die?" (Batman #246-Dec. 1972) is one of my favorite Batman stories. I got to thinking and I decided what if there was just ONE more chapter to be told, and this is what came forth.

'Son?' he thought. 'Did he really call me son.' That small but significant little word said so much. 'He never called me son before. I wonder what went on to have him . . .' Robin looked over toward his mentor and partner as they drove back to the batcave. He could see darkness around Batman's eyes, even though his cowl covered most of what he could not see. "How long have you been looking for me?"

"Four days and nights," Batman replied.

Robin saw Batman's grip on the wheel tighten. 'What had Ravek put him through?'

"You're going to need to check in at the University and catch up on your missed classes," Batman said, "Plus, check in with your landlord," trying to change the subject.

'He's trying to hide his . . . what . . . fear? Fear of what?'

They arrived at the batcave and Robin watched as Batman moved over to the communications center, updated since he had been there.

"I though you would have dropped me off at the University."

After updating Ravek's criminal record, Batman turned toward Robin. "You were sedated for four days and nights. I want to make certain there isn't any side effects."

"Master Richard, good to see you," Alfred said as he came into the batcave carrying a tray. He placed it on a nearby table. There were sandwiches as well as a pitcher of juice and two glasses.

'How did he know I'd be here?' Robin questioned in his mind. The sandwiches had no appeal for him at that moment.

"Alfred, could you check Dick over, please," Batman said as he removed his cowl. "I want to make sure there isn't any lasting effects from that sedative Ravek kept giving him. I'm going to take a shower."

"Come Master Richard, let me take a sample of your blood."

Dick Grayson kept a wary eye on his mentor, aware that something nearly tore Bruce apart, but he wasn't admitting to what it was. Yes, he nearly died tonight . . . The realization hit him like that ton of sedative had done the first time he had been out patrolling Hudson University. It had been a long time since either of them truly expressed how they felt about each other. In trying to hide what they felt, it made it that much harder to say what it was that truly mattered. Maybe there was another way for him to know. Bruce was out of site in the showers while Alfred was helping him.

"Alfred, what happened the last four days?" Dick asked. "I remember patrolling Hudson University and then I woke up and found out that I nearly had my head chopped off by a madman. And Bruce . . ."

"When you were missing . . ." Alfred turned to see that Bruce wasn't presently in hearing range. "Master Bruce suffered greatly at your loss. He would not sleep. I had not seen that look since the loss of his parents."

"But now . . ."

Bruce came back from his shower and stood next to Alfred. "The blood sample?"

"I placed it in the rack, Master Bruce."

Bruce took the sample then took a pipe syringe and placed a smaller sample on a slide. He placed the slide under the microscope and viewed the sample. "Dick, can you tell me how you are feeling?"

'I . . . I'm not sure . . ." Dick got up from the gurney and suddenly felt very dizzy. "I . . . I feel . . ." His knees buckled and he barely felt the strong arms of his mentor catching him before he hit the floor.

Bruce lifted him up and carried him over to the gurney. "Damn." He looked into Dick's glassy stare then felt his forehead. It was already warmer than it should be.

"What is it, Master Bruce?"

'His temperature is rising."

"What is happening to Master Richard?"

"It would seem Ravek found another way to kill a Robin, by giving him a poison I do not recognize. It must have been in the sedative."

"What?" Alfred was beside himself.

"Dick had been sedated for four days. Ravek must have kept him sedated to keep him from escaping. The sedative would have had to be given several times in a day, maybe even 6 to 8 hours apart. Somewhere along that timeline, he also gave Dick a poison. Apparently the poison was designed to go off as soon as the sedative lost its hold. I don't know how long Dick has or what antidote he's going to need."

"What about the universal bat antidote?"

"That works on most common drugs," Bruce said. "On this I do not know. I have not seen this poison before. I will need a vial of the exact poison to understand its properties to know what was given to Dick."

"Can you not make an anti-toxin from his blood?" Alfred asked.

"I might, but having the actual poison would help."

'I take it, you will be leaving to find that poison?"

"I must," Bruce said, as he moved back to where he kept his extra Batman uniforms. "Do what you can with whatever antidote we have. I'll try to return as quickly as possible."

Continues with: How to Poison a Robin Part 2


	2. Chapter 2

How Many Ways Can A Robin Die?

Chapter 6: How to Poison a Robin (Part 2)

Author's Note: "How Many Ways Can a Robin Die?" (Batman #246-Dec. 1972) is one of my favorite Batman stories. I got to thinking and I decided what if there was just ONE more chapter to be told, and this is what came forth.

Batman sped to Police Headquarters to speak to Commissioner Gordon about Ravek. He did not have much time. He understood the nature of poisons, each having their own properties and time duration that it took to kill a person. He recalled his own brush with death at the hands of a madman that used dogs to kill and dispense poison through their saliva via a dog bite. It wasn't pleasant. He agonized over what Dick was going through, but he needed to keep a clear head for his sake.

Batman burst into Commissioner Gordon's office. "I need to speak with Ravek."

"Ravek is leaving for Gotham State Pen within the hour," Gordon said. "I don't know how he escaped, but we're grateful that you recaptured him. His death sentence is to be carried out within two weeks of his return."

"I need to talk to him, now," Batman said.

"Why do you need to talk to him?"

"He has something I want," Batman demanded.

"What does he have that you want?"

"An antidote."

"Antidote, for who?" Gordon asked

"Robin." Batman said, his voice as cold as ice.

"I don't understand. Isn't Robin safe?"

"Not yet," Batman's voice was down to a whisper. It took a lot for him to admit that, but Dick's life hung in the balance and he needed the poison, even an antidote that he knew Ravek possessed.

"I won't ask any further. I'll have Ravek brought to a room," Gordon said. 'I'm doing to warn you. While you're here no roughing up the prisoner. You need to be on your best behavior."

Batman didn't like it, but he had to accept it. Out on the streets, he was the enforcer, the dark knight that protected Gotham City's people. Here, he was to abide by the GCPD's rules or risk having his status as an agent of the law revoked. Batman was led to an interview room where Ravek was waiting.

"Well, we meet again," Ravek stated then asked. "How's Robin feeling?"

"You bastard," Batman said under his breath. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"You know what I want," Batman growled.

"I don't have it," Ravek stated. "Since there was a chance that you could defeat me, I took precautions. Tell me, does Robin have a fever? Have the muscle contractions started? And how are his lungs?"

ENOUGH!" Batman demanded, slamming his fists on the table and cracking the wood. "I want the antidote."

"Oh well. You'll have to speak to the Poisoner for that one. Have a nice day, Batman. I'm due back at Gotham Prison."

The guard came in to take Ravek for transportation.

"Be sure he's placed in solitary," Batman said before leaving.

After Ravek was gone, Batman had to think on the man's words. Speak to the Poisoner, Ravek had said. The only Poisoner that he was familiar with was Poison Ivy. She could not be involved, at least not directly. She was in the woman's wing of Gotham State Pen, but that did not mean that Ravek hadn't communicated with her about various poisons. She was an expert and had developed some of the most sophisticated poisons to date. Maybe that wasn't what Ravek meant. Ravek's statement was designed to have Batman waste his time searching so Robin would die. He needed to think and use his resources instead of just reacting. Calling Alfred was his best resource.

"Alfred," Batman said, "First hand, how's Dick?"

"I moved him to his old room. His temperature continues to rise. It is now at 101.8. He has complained that his chest feels heavy and his muscles are aching. It almost sounds like he has the flu."

"We know he's been poisoned from viewing his blood," Batman said. "It's possible the poison is designed to appear that way." What Batman didn't want to voice was that Robin could have four hours or four days. All he knew was that Robin was running out of time and once again Ravek was causing him to sweat and cringe, worrying whether he would be on time to save the life of his partner. He also knew he wasn't going to let Ravek win, not as long as he could do something about it.

"Alfred correlate the name The Poisoner with the symptoms of the poison. Then let me know what you discover."

"Very good, Sir."

Within five minutes Batman got his answer.

"There was a man by the name of Graham Youngman. He developed a poison that had flu-like symptoms."

"Where is he?"

"He's dead," Alfred answered. "He was executed in 1914, but his Wax figure is at the Wax Works Murder Museum."

"Thanks Alfred."

Batman sped back to the Wax Works Murder Museum. He entered the museum and headed for the display of famous past Gothamites who committed sensational crimes that made headlines. Graham Youngman was a chemist looking for a cure for influenza. When his wife and daughter died, he blamed the hospital. He took the strain of influenza that killed his wife and daughter and turned it into a poison. All the hospital personnel who took care of his wife and daughter died, their lungs filled with fluid, and their temperature soared to fry their brains. Muscles contracted until there was one muscle that could no longer take the strain, the heart. The victims died within 24 hours of receiving the poison, but Batman had no clue as to when Robin had been administered the sedative that contained the lethal concoction.

Batman looked around the display that contained the wax figure of Graham Youngman. The figure had his hands in the air, one holding a test tube where it appeared he was pouring a liquid into another container. Batman examined the other test tubes and containers on the chemist's workbench display. Most of the liquids were colored water so they would show up in the light. There were blue, green and red. There was one container that held a liquid that was colorless, the one held in the murderous chemist's hands.

'That must be the poison," Batman stated. Batman took out a small bottle with an eye dropper and added a few drops to the clear liquid and observed that it turned a sickly shade of yellow, the evidence of poison. Batman remembered taking Dick to see the museum when it first opened. The murderous chemist had his hands just as they were now, but the liquid in the container had been red. He carefully took the container from the wax figure's hand. He then took out a vial from his utility belt as well as a funnel. He opened the vial and placing the funnel into the opening, he poured the liquid into the vial and screwed the lid in place. At least he had the poison, but where was the antidote?

With any ordinary poison, the antidote was a dark liquid to distinguish it from the poison itself, usually a brown color, but not always. Certain poisons that were ingested causing the person to vomit usually helped to dispel as much of the poison as possible. With a poison that has entered the blood stream, an anti-toxin as well as a blood cleanser had to be administered. The blood cleanser could be given as a tea or a diuretic.

He needed more information though if he was going to help Dick. He read more about the murders to learn how the poison was created. Oddly enough, what Alfred said, hit more on the truth than he realized. This particular poison was created out of an influenza strain that could only mean one thing. The strain had been altered to come on quickly and to burn out just as quickly to hide the fact that it contained one of the deadliest poisons. The yellow hue attested it. That was all he needed to know. The influenza virus must have been imbedded in the poison, but how? There was very little information on how the virus was spread.

'Lungs,' Bruce thought. 'Ravek asked about Robin's lungs. Coughing . . . the virus must be spread by saliva and congestion. Youngman must have collected samples of the flu virus from patients. I must get back to Dick.'

Batman leapt into the batmobile and gunned the engine. At the same time, the batmobile car phone buzzed.

"Batman here," Bruce answered. "Alfred, what's happened?"

"It's Master Dick. He started coughing. He is spitting out a great deal of congestion and he is complaining of extreme aching."

"Has his temperature risen?"

"It is 102.4"

"I will be there soon. I must pick up Dr. Leslie. I will need her expertise."

It looks like Robin was in for a very rough night.

Continues with: How to Poison a Robin (Part 3)


	3. Chapter 3

How Many Ways Can A Robin Die?

Chapter 6: How to Poison a Robin (Part 3)

Author's Note: "How Many Ways Can a Robin Die?" (Batman #246-Dec. 1972) is one of my favorite Batman stories. I got to thinking and I decided what if there was just ONE more chapter to be told, and this is what came forth.

"Batman drove into the batcave and with him was Dr. Leslie Thompkins. He gave her the bat sleep so she would not discover the location of the batcave, even though she knew some things about Batman that no one else did. He also called Alfred instructing him to take Dick in his Robin costume back down to the batcave to the medical bay.

"Put on his mask and his shirt and vest. You can leave the rest off. But make certain he is comfortable."

The gurney doubled as a hospital bed, and the medical bay over the years had the latest medical equipment to take care for a patient, including for performing surgery. Bruce realized when he was younger from his mid teens to his early twenties, his butler Alfred had finished up a medical degree. And even did a residency in his native England. Alfred's knowledge was extensive, but he chose to use what he knew in other ways, and allowed other medical professionals deal with the rest.

After using the batwake, Batman and Dr. Leslie Thompkins moved into the medical bay, despite her wide-eyed gazing at what the batcave contained. Once they approached the prone Robin, she was all business.

"What's his condition?" Dr. Leslie asked.

Alfred described the symptoms.

"Sounds like Avarian Flu, but that can't be. That strain is so dangerous it has to be contained. How did he contract it?"

Batman was reluctant to explain, but said instead, "From a madman, bent on tormenting me. I do not know how he got a sample of the flu virus. What's important now, is saving Robin's life."

"Did you take a blood sample?"

Batman nodded as if giving Alfred permission to speak.

"Yes, and Master . . . Batman viewed the slide."

"Did you save the rest of Robin's blood?" Dr. Leslie asked.

Alfred pulled the sample rack out of the small refrigerator. "It is kept at the proper temperature to preserve it, unless you wish to draw your own sample."

Leslie could not help but notice there was also a couple of pint-size plastic containers of whole blood. She noticed the date on the label. It was given recently. It was also then she noticed the quality of the equipment in the medical bay of the batcave.

Batman could not help but notice her curiosity. "This is a fully equipped medical clinic. We are able to store whole blood as well as plasma. Alfred made certain of that."

"Including for doing surgery?"

"When necessary, yes," Alfred stated. Alfred then handed Leslie a small card.

Leslie's eyes became wide at what she read. "Doctor Alfred Pennyworth?"

"Among my other professions," he stated.

"Why show me this?"

"To show you that Alfred is quite capable of taking care of both Robin and I, but he is a trained surgeon for battle, wounds, broken bones, and other injuries," Batman said. "This is a little bit beyond his expertise."

"Master Batman is correct. Identifying disease is not my expertise," Alfred said. He led Dr. Leslie over to the microscope and assisted her in checking Robin's blood.

Batman (Bruce Wayne) went over and checked on his ward. He removed one of his gloves to brush his check with his hand.

"Don't touch him," Dr. Leslie stated. "He could be highly contagious. He has Avarian Flu, but there is something odd about it."

"Odd?"

"Some of the markers are missing. They've been replaced with . . . oh no . . . it can't be."

"What is it?" Batman asked.

"This flu has been engineered. Quickly, we must synthesize a serum. We don't have much time."

"What about the poison?" Batman questioned.

"The poison is what was used to change the flu virus to turn it into a fast acting weapon. The virus itself can be deadly, but this doubles it's capacity to kill swiftly. That poor boy, why would someone do this?"

"To destroy me," Batman said, his voice becoming rough with emotion. "Only the man responsible did not realize that it would only galvanize me even more. If Robin dies, nothing will stop me from rending the man limb from limb despite the fact that the man is back in prison."

The cold harshness in Batman's voice was terrifying. Never had Alfred or Leslie heard such rage.

"Alfred, please help me get the serum ready," Dr. Leslie said. "We may also need an anti-toxin from the poison."

Three hours passed as two very tired but determined beings were finally able to synthesize the serum necessary to save Robin's life. Dr. Leslie filled a syringe and injected the contents into Robin's arm. "He may need another injection if his fever hasn't come down far enough for him to recover on his own. We need to check that the poison has also been removed from his system."

Now came the hard part, the waiting.

A gloved hand moved to touch the shoulders of the sleeping figure whose cowled head rested on the bed. The cowled head lifted to meet the eyes of his young partner.

"Robin," his emotion filled voice came out as a whisper, and he reached out with a bare hand to touch his partner's face. The fever was gone. "Let's check your temperature, Old Chum," and he placed a thermometer in Robin's mouth. Three minutes later, Batman took the thermometer and a smile formed on his face as he read the results. "How's your chest feel?"

Robin took a deep breath and let out a cough. "A little heavy still, but better."

"Why don't you rest some more while I take Dr, Leslie Thompkins home."

"Dr. Leslie?" Dick's eyes became wide then a frown formed on his face. "Does she know . . ."

"No," Batman said. "Don't worry Old Chum. I'll be back soon."

Robin gave out a large yawn and as he fell back into a deep and natural sleep, Batman pulled a blanket over him to keep him warm. Within moments, Robin could hear the muffled roar of the batmobile's engine as it drove back to Gotham City.

By the time Batman returned, Robin was in a deep and dreamless sleep.

"We should move him to his room," Alfred said.

"I'll take care of it," Batman said. He removed the rest or Robin's costume and pulled out a pair of pajamas that he put on the sleeping Dick Grayson. It was odd after all this time, changing a fully-grown man. Robin after all was nearly 20 years old. Leslie may have called him a boy, but she was much older than Dick, even older than Bruce. It wasn't surprising from the difference of their ages. Batman then changed out of his costume and back into the clothes of Bruce Wayne. Adjusting his weight, Bruce Wayne lifted his ward into his arms. Dick's head rested on his shoulder and Bruce held him close, feeling Dick's strong heart beat against his chest. Rather than take the Gurney up to Dick's room, Bruce knew why he wanted to carry Dick himself. It was to feel the presence of this young man's life in his hands.

"I nearly lost you twice," he said softly. "You're my son in all but name. And I love you Dick Grayson. Without you . . . my world, even as Batman, would become so much darker. Rest well my son."

With those words, Bruce Wayne carried his only son up the steps and back home to Wayne Manor.

End.

(My stories can also be found at my Yahoo Group, batcomputer archives site.)


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